If I Am Lost for A Day Try to Find Me
by faberino
Summary: Of course Carlos and Kendall fight. But life is too short to be angry.


**Written as a Christmas present for some of the girls over on Tumblr. Enjoy! Title is from the song Calendar Girl by Stars.**

Kendall wakes up when Carlos throws the cat on him. The poor cat, Alex, hisses loudly, clawing into Kendall's chest as he tries to escape. "What the fuck?" Kendall gasps, rubbing at his chest to soothe the stinging.

Carlos's hair seems to be bristling with rage, and his arms are crossed. He's wearing the shirt Kendall bought him when he was in Bali a couple years ago, some ugly touristy thing with _Bali_ in big red letters splashed across a tie-dye background. "Alex was peeing on your favorite pair of Vans," he growls.

The blonde leaps off the couch in alarm, but Carlos doesn't move to let him check on the state of his shoes. "And you just _let_ him?" Kendall demands. "Carlos, Kevin bought me those when –"

"I know damn well when Kevin bought you those, but you know, if they hadn't been _lying around_," Carlos interrupts, gesturing angrily about two inches from Kendall's nose, "then Alex wouldn't have thought they looked like a good place to take a piss!" He ignores the other's indignant scoff. "And he wouldn't have looked for somewhere else to pee if _somebody_ had cleaned out the litter box like he was supposed to!" His pointer finger digs into the place where Alex's claws had raked across Kendall's skin.

Kendall swats away the offending digit, breathing heavily through his nose. "Carlos, you _knew_ how messy I was going into this, right? You've been to my parents' house, you know what my room looked like over there – how is this any surprise?"

Carlos takes a step back, eyes narrowing, and Kendall realizes he's made a grave mistake. "That was your _room_. This is an entire fucking _apartment_. If you don't want animals crapping on your things, then you should make sure their litter box is clean so they can shit in there!" This last part is a frustrated yell; Carlos's hands are fisted at his side.

Ears burning with anger, Kendall pushes past his boyfriend. "I don't need you to pick up after me, you know," he throws over his shoulder. Alex is hiding underneath the table in the hallway. "I've already got one mom!"

In their shared bedroom, he spies his Vans, mostly dry except for the toes of the left shoe, which has more than a couple droplets of urine on them. "Dumbass cat," he grumbles, daintily wiping the shoe on the carpet. At least he had the decency to pee in the bedroom that didn't have white carpet.

The protesting screech of the living room window as it opens startles Kendall from his task. Kicking his shoes into the open closet, where they land on top of Carlos's only four pairs of shoes, neatly organized into a short row, he cautiously walks back to the living room. Clothes rustle and before he rounds the corner, Kendall has the horrifying thought that Carlos is going to jump out the window of their third floor apartment. The sight that greets him isn't anything like he expected, and he stands there in the entryway gawking.

Carlos, face flushed with anger and exertion, is hefting a laundry basket on his hip. It's filled with Kendall's laundry, clean but not folded or put away since he did laundry a week and a half ago. Balling up one of Kendall's many flannel shirts, Carlos hurls it out the window. With a squawk, Kendall shoves Carlos aside, reaching futilely for the garment. It drifts peacefully out of his reach, until finally it lands on the snow covered exterior of someone's car.

It's his turn to be roughly pushed to the side, and Kendall loses his footing, falling on his ass. Carlos upends the basket over the parking lot and all of Kendall's clothes, like huge chunks of plaid confetti, fall to the ground. Delicately setting the basket on the chair closest to the window, Carlos turns to the blonde, sanctimoniously crossing his arms. "Now the cat won't pee on any of your clothes. Aren't you glad your 'second mom' picks up after you?"

Something snaps in Kendall and he surges to his feet. Carlos looks almost afraid for a second, like Kendall was going to hit him (_as if_, Kendall thinks derisively) but rallies when Kendall stomps away from him, towards the filing cabinet with all Carlos's music in it. "What are you – no, Kendall, stop!" His angry pleas fall on deaf ears as Kendall yanks open the top drawer.

Grabbing a sheaf of papers, he throws them over his shoulder, not bothering to see where they land. "Look, more shit to clean up!" he snaps. "Oh no, Alex might pee on them, better throw them out the fucking window!" He almost hesitates, thinking about all the pain-staking time Carlos had taken to alphabetize all that music, but a gust of cold wind from outside removes his doubt. The papers scatter over the parking lot, some on top of his shirts, but most of them blowing out into the world.

A wordless noise of rage comes from the Latino, followed by receding stomping footsteps. But Carlos returns soon enough, carrying Kendall's fish, Mary Jane, complete with fish bowl. "Carlos!"

They wrestle briefly with the fish bowl, and Kendall barely manages to get Mary Jane out of the fishbowl and into his hands before the bowl goes flying out the window, aided by a loud grunt from Carlos. A couple seconds later, there's a crash of glass, and someone's car alarm goes off. "Did you hit a fucking car, man?" Kendall growls, banging open a cabinet in search of a glass to put his poor fish in.

"I was aiming for the dumpster!"

It's not the answer Kendall was hoping for, and he slams the glass down, now full of water, and plops his fish inside it. "Carlos, you can throw all my goddamn clothes out the window like a crazy person if you want, but Mary Jane is a _person_ and you can't throw a person out the goddamn window!" Carlos crosses his arms obstinately and they glare at each other over the counter.

But the corners of Carlos's mouth are twitching, and the laughter that Kendall loves so much finally spills out. He can't help but join in, because calling Mary Jane a person is probably one of the stupider things Kendall has done recently. "That's so _ridiculous_, Kendall," Carlos laughs, coming around the counter.

Kendall shrugs with one shoulder, reaching out to cup Carlos's chin. "So is throwing all my clothes out the window."

"I was pissed." Carlos pushes away from Kendall's hand. "And you are definitely not forgiven for throwing my music out the window!"

He's starting to look angry again, but Kendall pulls on Carlos's ear lobe. "I made sure to go for the top drawer, you know." The top drawer is where Carlos keeps copies of music he's written, not the originals. "You can afford to lose a couple sheets of music."

"We should probably go get your shirts or something," Carlos starts to say as Kendall reaches for him. This time, Carlos lets himself be pulled close, breathing the same air as his boyfriend.

Underneath Kendall's hand, he can feel the pulse in Carlos's neck still beating fast from their fight. "I'm not gonna apologize for being messy," he whispers, bending down to place a kiss on the fluttering pulse.

Carlos's breath hitches in his throat. "Why, because life is too short to be organized?"

"No," Kendall replies, brushing his knuckles down Carlos's side. "Life is too short to waste good make-up sex." Carlos laughs into their kiss.


End file.
